An Arrangement of Sorts (26 page)

They returned to the large room on the first floor where the remainder of the family and Nathan, now changed himself, were waiting. The room was positively bustling with people, both adults and scampering grandchildren, and Mr. Cutler stood against the wall near Nathan, and watched the gathering with a quiet smile.

She made a quick count, and with her and Nathan as an addition, there were fifteen people in this house, which was certainly large enough for a family, but hardly one of this magnitude. It was quite simply astounding.

She moved to stand by Nathan as Mrs. Cutler and her daughters returned to tend the food. “Do they all live here all the time?” she whispered as she reached him.

“Shh,” he scolded out of the corner of his mouth, as he saw Squire Cutler’s mouth twitch. “You are not nearly as quiet as you think you are.”

She glared at him, but didn’t comment.

“Don’t worry, Moira,” the squire said as he leaned near them. “We don’t take offense easily in this family. We can’t. The answer to your question is no, we do not all live here all the time. The married ones have homes of their own not too far away. Emma and Jack, that is our youngest boy there, are the only ones remaining. The others are here for Madeline’s birthday, which is in two days. Her only request was for the entire family to be together for a week, and, as you can see, we are fairly bursting at the seams.”

“I’m sorry to cause any further inconvenience,” Moira said softly, feeling guilty and letting Nathan take her hand in consolation.

“It’s no trouble at all,” came Madeline’s cheerful voice from across the room. “We have plenty of room for everyone, and I will hear no more about it! Now come and eat, all of you, before it gets cold!”

Moira looked to the squire, who only smiled and shrugged. “I never argue with Madeline, you know,” he whispered as she passed him. “It would be impossible to get a word in.”

They spent some time socializing with the family after they had finished the excellent meal, and it was a wonderful respite from the excitement of the last few days. They’d been questioned, rather gently, about their story, and rather than pretend marriage at this point, Nathan explained that they were cousins searching for Moira’s husband, and it seemed to come far more easily than anything they’d tried yet. Faintly, she wondered why they hadn’t done so before.

The family was very sympathetic to their plight, with some rather maternal tears from Mrs. Cutler, and the sons assured them both that they could easily reach Preston by nightfall tomorrow if they left in the morning.

Nightfall. Tomorrow night this would all be over. Moira looked over at Nathan, who returned it with a similar expression. After tomorrow, there would be no pretending a life with him, no familiarity of speech or argument, no more stories or questions… All of that would belong to someone else.

And they would never see each other again.

Suddenly, she could not breathe and her chest ached.

In Nathan’s eyes she saw that he had not been immune to the words either, but what exactly he was feeling, she could not possibly know.

To be perfectly honest, she was afraid to.

As the dinner finished, the family suggested, quite energetically, that they enjoy some dancing. There was no arguing with the guests, but Nathan nearly groaned. The dishes were quickly cleared from the table and no doubt the speed with which they were cleaned was something that should have deserved a reward. In almost no time at all, the furniture was moved into other rooms and suddenly, the room was spacious enough to hold quite a large number of people.

It was only then that Nathan notice
d
a small pianoforte in a corner of the room. He wondered how much it had cost this family, who clearly had enough to get by, but not much beyond, for they did not even have help around the house. The instrument was old and worn, obviously much loved, but still in serious need of repair. If someone in this family could play half as well as the piano’s use indicated, they deserved a better one.

Each of the girls took a turn playing as the rest danced, and it was hard to say which of them were more talented. Nathan begged off from dancing, as the numbers allowed him to, and he spent much of the time watching. One daughter, Sarah, if he recalled, was expecting and kept him amiable company.

“Not dancing, Nathan?” she asked with a smile as she looked up at him.

“No,” he said instantly, shaking his head with a dry laugh. “No, I would not shame the present company with something so atrocious. I am much better at observing, thank you very much.”

“That is not a very good reason, you know,” she told him, her eyes dancing.

“But alas, it is the only one I have. You have a far better reason, I see,” he said with a grin, his eyes indicating her stomach.

“Yes,” she said with a warm smile, rubbing it once more. “I do not think dancing would be wise in this condition. But Clara will dance after a while, once she has played a bit, and then I shall take over. I have not quite the technique she does, but I make up for it in energy.”

Nathan laughed aloud and faced the dancing again. “Now that I can believe.”

He fell silent as he watched the dancing, eyes tracking one person in particular. Moira looked so alive as she danced. She laughed, and smiled, and her hair, long and luxurious down her back as he preferred it, fairly shimmered in the flickering light of the room. Instead of tiring after a dance, she almost looked more energized, as if the dancing was rejuvenating her.

She looked over at him on occasion, and always with the same little tilt of her head, inquiring, inviting, but not voicing the question. He was tempted, he really was. Dancing with Moira would not be like dancing with any other woman. He knew, without hesitation or previous experience, that he would never regret one dance with her, no matter how his lack of ability might jumble the whole thing into an unidentifiable mess.

He could watch her all day, dancing or not, but something about observing her dance made his heart warm. Charles Allenford could not have the slightest idea of what an amazing woman he was so fortunate as to be engaged to. Years of friendship, no matter how close they might have become, could not have compared to the depth and intensity of his emotion for her. For what she was. For how she affected him.

If it could have, there was nothing in the heavens or the earth that would have been able to take him away from her side.

He smiled as he watched her, loving the way her laughter rang like music in his ears. Suddenly, he needed to be the one making her laugh, making her smile, bringing that light out of her. He had so little time with her, and here he was standing against the wall watching her enjoyment.

Again she looked at him, again she tilted her head so adorably, and smiled at him. Instantly, he made up his mind. He looked down at the woman next to him, and, to his astonishment, saw that it was now Clara. It seemed he had watched longer than he thought. He smiled at the woman, and asked, “Would you care to dance, Clara?”

She smiled up at him. “I would love to, Nathan.” She looked over at the dancing, and sighed. “They have almost finished this one, I fear.”

“Well, then let us give them a finish to remember,” he said with a grin as he offered her his hand.

She took it and they lightly joined the dance, and he found himself smiling the entire time.

As it finished, Clara’s husband approached to claim her. “That is, if you don’t mind dancing with your cousin, Nathan,” he added pleasantly, ever so slightly out of breath.

Nathan looked to Moira, who was staring at him and smiling in a stunned amusement. “I don’t mind,” he murmured.

He walked over to her and bowed very properly. “If you would be so kind, Moira, I should very much like to dance the next with you.”

She curtseyed very prettily, then said, “I thought you did not care for dancing.”

“I find myself so entranced by your smile tonight that I dare to make an exception.” His own words stunned him, but he would stand by them. Truth was truth, after all, and if she thought he was teasing, then so be it.

“Are you under my spell, then?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

“Entirely,” he said in a low voice with an accompanying nod. “I am yours to command as you will.”

Moira’s eyes danced playfully as she fought to restrain her grin. “Then I command you to dance with me, Nathan, and enjoy it.”

“If you insist.”

She laughed merrily at his words and he smiled, unable to help himself.

It was, without a doubt, the best dance he had ever had. He was not particularly skilled, but neither was he worried about that now. He could not worry about anything when he danced with her. He did not enjoy dancing, it was true. But if he could do this every time, he could come to be very fond of dancing indeed. As it was, he danced with her three more times before the entire company was too exhausted to continue.

And it was not nearly enough to satisfy him.
 

Nathan could not sleep. He lay on the bed in Jack’s room, staring up at the ceiling, his thoughts awhirl.  He kept seeing Moira’s face as she danced, the light in her eyes as she smiled with real pleasure, her delight that he would join her regardless of his distaste for it… He would have to leave all of that behind him soon, and that knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth that he could not expunge.

He heard a noise suddenly, and sat up, listening again.
No
, he prayed silently,
p
lease don’t let that be…

But he heard it again, that panicked half moan, half whimper from the room next to him. He groaned and raced from his bed still fully clothed out into the hall. Heart pounding, he didn’t even hesitate outside the door and pushed it open, entering the now-moonlit room and going to the bed instantly.

Moira was writhing as if in pain, her brow dampened with sweat, and her expression pained. She moaned with each twist of her body, and her head thrashed from side to side frantically. As yet, she was not forming words, but Nathan knew they could not be far in coming. She gripped her blankets and sheets in her hands, clutching and releasing them rapidly.

What could he do? He yearned to take her in his arms and hold her as he did before, but he held back. Reason broke in and he could not bring himself to do it. If he held her in his arms, even to comfort her in her dreams, he would never be able to get through the next few days. It was too much, too tempting, too close to his deepest desires.

He had to leave. Now. Before she said anything or called for anyone. If he waited any longer, he wouldn’t be able to leave with any sense. And yet here he stood, only able to clench his own fingers convulsively, helpless against her fear.

Again she whimpered, and now came the tears as well. Nathan shut his eyes and swallowed painfully. He could not bear it. He could not ignore it, yet he could not act. He didn’t know how he could give in without being swallowed up by regret later.

But inaction would kill him just as surely as action would.

Opening his eyes again, he looked back at Moira, and, gathering every ounce of strength and willpower he possessed, he allowed himself to bend down and press his lips gently to her clammy brow. “It’s only a dream, Moira,” he whispered against her skin. “It’s all just a dream.”

He winced against the powerful draw to stay, and pushed himself up and away from the bed and exited the room without a single glance back, shutting the door softly behind him. He leaned back against it and sighed harshly. Still he wanted to go back, every fiber of his being screaming that the woman he loved needed him. But it would be a disaster. It would destroy him.